a start.

i think part of the reason why i loved the Twilight books so much is because Stephenie Meyer was so inspired to write by her dreams and her music. she constantly just had stories to tell that would come from some sort of personal experience.

and this inspires me.

i'm somewhat of a visionary. and there is always some form of a picture in my mind, especially with my synesthesia. i have many stories to tell.

but just like with Stephenie, these are going to stick with just me for awhile.

still, i'm really excited. :)

the past and its meaninglessness.

sometimes i indulge myself with reading my old journal entries and such from a few years back. they're entertaining and remind me of things/times/people i'd forgotten about. even if at the time i swore i'd never forget it. hah.

it's funny how little truly impacts your life in relation to how much you think it does. in a way, it gives me hope to think that at some point in my future, i can feel truly new and whole and detached from my past. lately for different reasons, that has been a problem.

what once felt like a restraint now feels like a savior. i was once tied up and burning at the stake and am now holding onto that stake for dear life. because there are some things that need to burn away...to irrevocably change form and appearance.

and now i see that in the end...nay, by the end...it wouldn't have made a difference anyway.

today's passings.

my day has consisted of rainy walks with my doggy-friend Buddy, organizing a plan to start getting my final school assignments taken care of, black coffee, my favorite strawberry ice cream, and one of my favorite movies Cold Mountain, which is happening as we speak.

i am rather joyous of the rest of the week without classes. and the holidays approaching. and the presents i plan on making/giving.

i have a strange feeling that this winter holds something out of the ordinary for me. we'll see.

have a good one, friends.

The Prophet: On Marriage

"Then Almitra spoke again and said, And what of Marriage, master?
And he answered saying:
You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore.
You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days.
Ay, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.
But let there be spaces in your togetherness,
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.

Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf.
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.

Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.
And stand together yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow."

The Prophet: On Love

my aunt bought me this little book called The Prophet for my 18th birthday and every now and then i fall in love with it all over again. lately, today, right now, it is the medicine my soul has longed for. it's an extension of almost everything i think and feel on certain subjects, plus a little more. so i'll share different segments with you all from now on for your philosophical and theological pleasures. enjoy.

"Then said Almitra, Speak to us of Love.
And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them. And with a great voice he said:
When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are high and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste in the garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant.
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.

Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possess not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.

When you love you should not say,
'God is in my heart,' but rather, 'I am in the heart of God.'
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.

Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips."

i am cleaned and made whole. i am satisfied and i am joyful.

today is a good day. :)

i love you all.

beh.

i have a lot i want to write about. random tangents of thought and observation. songs that tear into me. people that are melded to my heart to the point of becoming part of my heart...therefore leaving me never to be the same.

He sure is doing a number on me.

i just wish i had something else...someone else...to talk about besides myself. maybe that's why being alone is so suffocating. maybe it's because all i have to rest my eyes on is a mirror, which hardly brings rest.

this is my prayer, my hope, my song:

how long have i been in this storm?
so overwhelmed by the ocean's shapeless form
the water's getting harder to tread
with these waves crashing over my head

if i could just see You...everything would be alright
if i'd see You...this darkness would turn into light
and i will walk on water
and You will catch me if i fall
and i will get lost into Your eyes
i know everything will be alright
i know everything is alright

i know You didn't bring me out here to drown
so why am i ten feet under and upside down?
barely surviving has become my purpose
because i'm so used to living underneath the surface

if i could just see You...everything would be alright
if i'd see You...this darkness would turn into light
and i will walk on water
and You will catch me if i fall
and i will get lost into Your eyes
i know everything will be alright
i know everything is alright
everything's alright


Storm - Lifehouse

Amen.

"A Simple Paradise"

this is another blog from my myspace that i'm transferring over...the same thoughts have bounced around my head lately and i recalled already writing them! enjoy...

so for some reason lately my mind's been stuck on the man who was crucified right next to Jesus. i realize there were two, and i am speaking of the one who believed He was the son of God.

the fact that he was being killed in the worst and most painful way imaginable is an obvious clue that his life was a bit less than consecrated. he could've been one of the worst theives around. he could've raped a woman. he could've been some sort of biblical serial killer. i'm sure plenty of scholars have already done the research and know exactly what he did, but regardless, it was horrifying enough to be tortured to death. but it was the split second before his life was lost in which he encountered Life itself. and in doing so, he was promised eternal Paradise seconds before his earthly death.

there are many churches and Christians that find it necessary to set up some sort of lifestyle to compare all others against to either praise or condone. a good way a friend of mine put it is an attempt to make Christianity a formula. that's like trying to fit Christ in some sort of box that brings us success when handled correctly. our perception of it is a game to be an expert in as opposed to Life that is living and breathing and, in some aspects, changing or moving. so if we stop looking at the actions of ourselves and others and start looking at what is going on in the inside [which hopefully reflects that of the outside], it wouldn't be so hard to comprehend a serial killer or a rapist receiving the love of Christ and His Paradise.

my point is that it truly is the simplicity of believing Christ is God that brings us to Paradise. humans are always thought of as too simple to comprehend a complicated universe or God, but i truly think otherwise. its the simple things, the "too easy" things that completely floor the human race.

"Life"

it's funny how my life looks to others when i tell them what i'm up to lately. they say things like "keep enjoying life" and "it's great to hear that you're doing so well."

do i really sound so well? i would think something a little above getting-through-this-hour living would be considered that great. but that's not what they see. they see the college journey, the challenging classes, and the social life. those things are truly mine, and i appreciate them greatly.

but is that the stuff of my life?

it's the stuff people want to hear, i suppose.

a dear friend of mine shared with YoungLife club last night about how shallow scratches scab over while they are healing, but deep scratches first heal from the inside and don't make themselves "pretty" until they are completely healed. the deep wound is healed before the outside looks any different. and just like she related to this healing, i do as well.

my emotions still have their downward tendencies and i still feel like breathing is a chore. i still feel like in spite of having all these traits of a great life around me, i have nothing to keep me warm. but there is warmth inside of me. my body touches this world but it only feels His arms, where i rest. we don't talk much...we don't need to. because i know that despite my despair, i am being healed. despite all reality, my soul is under the spell of a miracle.

at the moment, this is only knowledge. because i am human, i can't grasp it yet because i can't feel it or see it.

it's hard to say what i feel and see. if my life were split into three levels, three completely different scenarios, people, and emotions would be taking place within me. and all three are simultaneous. i can't be sure of anything.

but something tells me i'm in the perfect place for me...this is exactly what i need.

so once again, i press on.


to you, goodbye.

and to you, hello.

and you, i'm sorry.

"I Have Calmed and Quieted My Soul"

i heard a Psalm this past Wednesday that i had never heard before, and i related to it more than i can express. and the funny thing is, its author had a completely different attitude about his words than i have had with mine...

O Lord, my heart is not lifted up;
my eyes are not raised too high;
I do not occupy myself with things
too great and too marvelous for me.
But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
like a weaned child with its mother;
like a weaned child is my soul within me.

O Israel, hope in the Lord
from this time forth and forevermore.

Psalm 131

it was those first four lines that have been in my prayers for weeks on end, and in them, i relayed my hopelessness. my neck hurts from searching the clouds. my heart hurts from inflated dreams. and so i have found myself here, with heavy eyes and fermented thoughts. a shorter story, no love, no glory, no hero in my skies. but what a place to be. what a blessing it is to be truly broken in spirit...to be humble, rather than in pursuit of humility. and it's those last few lines that have shed light on how i should respond to my situation and what the next step is.

But I have calmed and quieted my soul...

the first step to calming and quieting oneself tends to begin with a sense of being out of breath or being exhausted. so it has been for my soul. now i can look forward to the calm and the quiet.

and maybe, with strength not my own, i can find in my heart some hope as well.

Song.

once there was a song. He created it from His heart, His creativity, and His wildest dreams. somehow this song didn't alter the structures of time or space or waves. it's a miracle such a thing from such a Being could breathe and not sear through the thin membranes of life and logic surrounding it.

the concept of color must have derived from weak imitations and parallels to this music, as if it was read about in a book somewhere and no reader quite knew how to paint with it. if i were to whisper the colors of these melodies to you, your recollections of such colors would be like fingerprints compared to the hand that made them. some of these colors, i have no names for anyway.

the song can be divided into several layers, each in response to one another but never self-made. layers of circumstance, change, question, raw emotion, restricted emotion, thoughts, thoughts about those thoughts...the list hardly ends. some layers never surface but do indeed live.

i do not know these things because i created them. i simply hear. i simply see. i simply marvel and grovel and tumble over what couldn't have come from this world; what must have been thought on and brainstormed and carefully constructed during every milisecond of time before its birth.

and to think that this song...this song that causes so many lasting fingerprints...is only a fingerprint in itself of Who formed it? this purity is only an expression of Someone even more potent? this melody that i can barely handle listening to, let alone considering, is simply the vibrations of Something more resounding?

good God, how now shall we live?

oh, The Shack...

consider it:

" 'Is that what it means to be a Christian?' It sounded kind of stupid as Mack said it, but it was how he was trying to sum up everything in his mind.
'Who said anything about being a Christian? I'm not a Christian.' [Jesus said.]
The idea struck Mack as odd and unexpected and he couldn't keep himself from grinning. 'No, I suppose you aren't.'
They arrived at the door of the workshop. Again Jesus stopped. 'Those who love me come from every system that exists. They were Buddhists or Mormons, Baptists or Muslims, Democrats, Republicans and many who don't vote or are not part of any Sunday morning or religious institutions. I have followers who are murderers and many who are self-righteous. Some are bankers and bookies, Americans and Iraqis, Jews and Palistinians. I have no desire to make them Christian, but I do want to join them in their transformation into sons and daughters of my Papa, into my brothers and sisters, into my Beloved.'
'Does that mean,' asked Mack, 'that all roads will lead to you?'
'Not at all,' smiled Jesus as he reached for the door handle to the shop. 'Most roads don't lead anywhere. What it does mean is that I will travel any road to find you.' "

- The Shack

i have the coolest Brother in the world.

Synesthesia

so i don't really mention this a lot, but recently when i have, my friends have been shocked that i didn't mention it sooner. it's just an odd and entertaining fact about me.

i have synesthesia. my mom does too. one in twenty-three people have it.

what does that mean? Wikipedia says it's "a neurologically-based phenomenon in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway."

basically, things go together in my mind that aren't necessarily supposed to. but it all just makes sense to me.

for example:

numbers, when i see them in my mind, have a color, a gender, and somewhat of an attitude or personality that coorelates with their gender and color. the number three is yellow and is a feminist female. the number four is purple and also female, but much more lady-like. the number five is red and is an athletic male.

the same goes with letters. A is a red female, B is a blue male, C is a yellow female, D is a green male.

and the days of the week. Monday is red and is masculine, Tuesday is blue and is masculine, Wednesday is yellowish-orange and is feminine, Thursday is a greenish color and is the manliest day of all, Friday is more of a spectrum of different colors and is masculine, and Saturday and Sunday are both white-ish yellow and are like twins, Saturday being the boy and Sunday being the girl.

and the months of the year. January is white/blue, February is lavender/yellow, March is pink, April is red, May is pink/yellow, June and July are blue/yellow/white, August is red and orange and grey, September is just yellow, Octobor is orange/white/brown, November is grey/brown/white, and December is green.

and bands, as i get to know their sound. don't even get me started on those!

the thing is, no two people with synesthesia have the same colors and what not for each number, letter, etc. it's all personal and unique.

some people with synethesia see music, while others taste words and locate days/years in space.

i sort of do that with people. some people's spirits feel physically closer to me than others, regardless of how well i know them. it's like they're sitting/standing/living right beside me in some parallel universe.

it's all rather weird, and when i explain it like some "phenomenon" it makes it sound a lot cooler than it really is. but in a lot of ways it can throw me off emotionally for no reason. like when i'm lonely, Thursdays are comforting because it's almost like having a guy there with me because i see it as such a masculine day.

weird huh?

who knows what God wants to do with my crazy brain!

Thought of the Day

the truth seems to imply everything we fear finally taking place, but not destroying us in the ways we assumed. and so we lose our reasons to fear at all.

and the opposite of fear is love.

Agony in the Garden

this is a tempera painting by William Blake that i immediately fell in love with a year and a half ago. it burned itself into my mind and took on the role of another tangible object i may use to show others who i am. it is called Agony in the Garden, and describes the events taking place in the heart and mind of Christ as he prayed in agony in the Garden of Gethsemene:

Blake was said to be a "fervent admirer of the Bible, and intimately aquainted with its beauties."

i think his art speaks for itself on that matter.

amazing.

"Love is Gonna Break Through"

tonight was a good night, but i was feeling horrible. i had a headache and a stomachache and i was freezing my pants off. i got in my car determined to leave my homework for tomorrow so that i could get a good night's sleep. for some reason the fact that i had nothing new in the CD player was frustrating, so i dug through some of my old stuff and i put in some Chris Rice. i sang to a few songs and smiled as the heater in my car started thawing out my bare legs. then one of my favorite songs on the album came on called "Love is Gonna Break Through" and i [briefly] closed my eyes to the piano intro and the first few lines, in which Rice sings about a few things that touch the heart in different ways.

then a specific line hit my ears in a different way: "And my heart pounds with a thunder..." i started thinking about what that means, and i concluded that it means [for me personally] that i have a passionate love in my heart for others. with that in mind, the next few lines in which Rice sings about hardships and war and bitterness and horrible surprises in a person's life, made the weight of my emotions plummet toward misery.

i realized that the love i have asked God to grow in my life is not what i thought it would be. it isn't seeing the positive aspects of a person and liking them more. it's not making them easier to be around because i no longer care about what they think. it's not realizing how to be a better friend and having others follow suit. it is coming to grips with the state of this world, and it is a heartbreaking state indeed. it's also one that could have easily been solved long ago. it is misery based completely on misunderstandings and pride. and when tragedy hits this world there is no limit to the cries, the pains, the traumas that impact the heart. love is embracing destruction and comforting the undesirable. it is taking someone's burden and carrying it as your own.

it sounds like such a depressing place to be, but i'd rather be no where else than in this state of mind and heart. i'd rather feel the hurt of my neighbor than laugh with a friend as if no hurt existed. granted, i haven't always been this way, which is probably why i appreciate this heartbreak so passionately.

back to the song that inspired this entire thought process/blog, the chorus hits home for me: "it hits me like lightning that love must keep fighting, but somehow, every time, love is gonna break through." that, to me, defines what it means to hope. it is that knowledge we have no scientific proof for that lets us know this isn't how it should be, and it won't be this way for long. there's reason to press on. there is life beyond grieving.

i can't help but feel like i am sharing the heart of Christ in this moment; a broken heart for the world and yet a swelling heart for shining light into the darkness. this is what it is to feel love for others. this is what it is to be Love for others.

and literally by God, love is gonna break through.

Words

i was inspired by another friend's writing to speak on this subject:

the simplest way i can put it is this: our society doesn't say what they mean. i don't mean this in the sense that we lie [which isn't too far from the truth either], but that we throw words around to the point of their meanings being completely lost in our watered-down connotations of them.

take the word amazing, for example.

amazing - to overwhelm with surprise or sudden wonder; astonish greatly.

or awesome.

awesome - inspiring awe

how many times do i personally use these two words for things hardly astonishing or awe-inspiring? far too many. and with that, after awhile, i will no longer be able to use the word properly when something actually does take my breath away or knock me off my feet. a classmate of mine a few days ago said he was depressed about going to work. i said "really? depressed?" and he said "well not depressed obviously..." I understood what he was trying to say, but i definitely didn't agree with his nonchalant way of going about expressing himself.

i'm sure to other cultures and societies, we sound rather melodramatic, unintelligent, and immature in our vocabulary. but this hardly has anything to do with how other people see us. we should care for the sake of living in truth that our words hardly portray our thoughts. we may roughly understand one another connotatively, but should that be enough? is that any excuse to throw words and conversations around as if we'll forever have a chance to use them?

i just want my words to be what they are, so that i don't have to explain myself or regret what i say. let my yes be yes and my no be no. let my "awesome" be "awe inspiring" and my "amazing" be "overwhelmed with surprise."

it's all about living in truth. God willing, we can start doing so.

I Am the Spork

this is more of a self-analysis than a pity party. bear with me.

a spork is meant to be both a spoon and a fork. it is commonly found in cheap school districts' cafeterias in order to save a few bucks on plasticware. it is two in one, a little of everything, and the best of both worlds. or is it? one who has ever been forced to eat their every course with a spork realizes that this utensil is both a crappy spoon and an even more crappy fork. therefore, the spork, though intriguing for some time to the eyes, loses its charm once actually needed and used.

i am a spork in almost every aspect of my life. i am good at english and math simultaneously. i play both the piano and the guitar, i sing alto and soprano, i love the arts and the sciences, i am an introvert and an extrovert, i am shy and outgoing, a follower and a leader, independent and dependent. in fact, i am neither left-brained or right-brained; i took a medical test showing that i think exactly down the middle of my brain, walking the fences between both hemispheres.

this list, in its simple words and connotations, may portray me as well-rounded or "balanced." but the Achilles' heel of that seemingly positive paragraph is the fact that none of these traits can i do/be exceptionally well in. i'm good at everything but never the best in anything, smart but never brilliant, gifted but never a prodigy.

granted, most everyone has to be average for there to even exist the "brilliant" or the "prodigy." but most seem to have obvious weaknesses and major downfalls in certain areas of their lives, leaving clear indicators of their strengths and their potential in other areas. their natural abilities are concentrated, making progress both noticeable and consistent. my natural abilities seem to be almost evenly distributed, with hardly any progress possible past talent.

maybe God meant to create me with no bias, no leaning, and no tendency whatsoever. maybe such a "flat" life resume is meant to somehow help the waverer find solid ground and the realist find hope.

maybe my lack of exceptionality is meant to lead others to become exceptional.

or maybe i am simply just a plain and plastic spork. at least i can still be used somehow.

The Glass Can Only Spill What it Contains

i want to make someone fall in love.

not with me, just with something.

the way i describe something or the way i myself love something...i want to inspire someone to wrap their heart around it and live life with yet another light of perspective and another branch of affection.

i guess a better way of putting my desire is this: i want to be contagious.

i have met many contagious people in my life. most celebrities get their fame from such a trait. i had one friend who described things and people so beautifully that anytime he said the word "girl" i automatically pictured the hottest female ever, especially when he gave her a name. he made any name sound divine just by saying it.

i would love to have that power, that blessing, that gift. the gift of light. the gift of love. the gift of beauty, even if it is just in a person's thoughts.

but i'd probably need to have a little more love, hope, and beauty in my own heart.

the glass can only spill what it contains.

The Black, the Grey, and the Colorful

the past few conversations i've had with people when it comes to Christianity have seemed to center around the concept of interpretation.

C.S. Lewis wrote in Mere Christianity about how interpretations should be digested. if you were to look at a diagram of a cell in a science textbook, it would be clear to you that it is not an actual cell, but it is only a description of a cell picturably. the diagram's existence is only meant to help the reader understand the function of a cell. since its very purpose is only to help, it is safe to throw out the picture if it does not make sense to you personally. there are other ways of understanding a cell; its written-out functions/cycles, mathematical elements, or its simple ability to sustain life may all in themselves be enough for a person to truly understand the concept and reality of a cell. no one interpretation is superior to another, and no one interpretation is the cell itself.

though Lewis used this analogy to allow readers to "throw out" his own writing, i believe this analogy and way of thinking can be applied to the numerous translations of the Bible as well. working in a Christian bookstore, i get plenty of people walking in and out of my life bashing this Bible version and worshipping another, generally between the KJV and the NIV. each version can be put on a scale between strictly word-for-word and strictly thought-for-thought, just as people can generally be put on a scale between strictly mathematical-thinkers and strictly artistic-thinkers. just as pretty much everything else goes in life, it all depends on the person when it comes to which works for whom.

and being such a black-and-white person myself, this vast amount of grey overtaking my logic has been quite a journey. i've never struggled with "right vs. wrong" when it comes to Bible translations, but plenty of other areas have been put to the test.

at this point, all i know is that i am the black and God is the white. the only light i have been given has been His own. the only holiness given to the Bible has been His breath. the only vindication of my words has been His truth. the only life that i have lived has been His life.

the color white reflects every other color in existence, while black absorbs them. maybe interpretations and theories are meant to be the different colors people can reflect for/to one another, all coming together to become the white of God. or this in itself could be an interpretation a person can/should throw out of their mind.

Nature and the Chicken, Nurture and the Egg

this is both a "the chicken vs. the egg" and a "nature vs. nurture" question, but it is one that i honestly don't know the answer to:

do our souls ever change or grow?

it will depend on how you define the term "soul." if it is simply your existence, then no, because existence is a mode which one is either in or out of. there are no ranges or extents of existence. but if you were to define the term "soul" as a person's personality and heart values, there are innumerable ranges and extents a soul can travel.

so for the former definition, the answer to my question is no, the soul does not change because it is merely the presence of existence, leaving any further contemplation unnecessary.

but for the latter definition, the answer is yes, because our personalities and values stem from our experiences through time. we learn and grow and change. that leads me to assume that when we are born, we have only the seed of a soul, which will grow and form according to what extent we allow these experiences to change us. this mindset leads me to another question:

when we die, are our souls hindered by what age or mental place we were at at our time of death? certainly age is a large factor in the process of learning and maturing here on Earth, and if our soul is the thing learning and growing, would not our death be the end of our journey, leaving us only as far as we traveled on Earth? when a six-year-old dies, would he/she not enter Heaven as a six-year-old soul?

this personally doesn't make sense to me, and it makes me want to believe that we will enter the gates of Heaven as pure and perfect souls unhindered by our earthly lives. but that would entirely contradict the latter definition of the soul.

one may say that our journey does not end with death, but we have more learning and growing to do in the second life, letting our soul continue the same path it tread on Earth, only in the second life we will have the perfect Teacher and the perfect environment to guide us. but, correct me if i'm wrong, isn't it true that there will be no sin in Heaven? if this is so, then we wouldn't even have the choice of falling astray, leaving any growth rather unnecessary and almost applicably impossible.

i'm not saying there is no answer to my question, or that this very question crumbles the entire concept of both Heaven and the soul. i'd be the most arrogant human being alive to think such a thing, and i could hardly call myself a believer in Christ. i'm just laying out the logic i have contemplated, allowing God to do what He wishes with it through some personal revelation or the comments of my friends.

your thoughts?

The Broken Clock

so i was introduced to a new hypothetical situation that i can't figure out.

imagine a broken clock hanging on the wall. it died when the time was 11:34, and obviously its hands are still in place to read that time. now imagine that the owner of that clock didn't know that it was broken, and just so happened to look at the clock to see the time whenever the real time was actually 11:34. the clock owner claims that the time is 11:34 based on a false clock, and goes on with his day.

but is he necessarily accurate? that depends on how you define or justify truth and knowledge. since his foundation lies on a clock that is broken, anything that he tries to build off of that will collapse no matter what other outside sources say, such as an accurate clock reading 11:34 (just as in court, any evidence, no matter how convicting, cannot be used if retrieved unlawfully). so he is wrong. but then of course there is the argument that time is time and if you know what time it is it doesn't matter where you came from to get that knowledge. you could even say that it is fate that brings the owner to that clock whenever its time is accidentally true. but that's irrelevant, and once again this idea brings me to a thought on the Christian faith.

is every type of testimony valid, simply because finding Jesus is finding Jesus? does a person who bases their faith on their emotions have the same truth in their heart than the person who bases their faith in wisdom? is God so versitile that He can truly shine through any avenue of the heart?

or do our foundations count for something? is it that someone who claims to have sincerely accepted Christ based off of some sort of invalid accident may not even realize what the Christian walk is all about?

i ponder this thought mainly with the emotional Christians i see around me...the ones who thrive on those mountain-top experiences to charge up their faith through some happiness high. that's barely even faith at all, because you are constantly being assured around you through your peers and your leaders that what you believe is true. can they TRULY have Christ in them if their testimony is just so happening to have the right emotions when hearing about God?

or maybe fate has everything to do with this. maybe God reaches people in odd but genuine ways and the foundations of their faiths are only stepping stones toward Him. maybe time is time and God will always let us know what time it is, even through a broken clock.

sometimes i feel like i'm the broken clock.

jeesh. what have i gotten myself into.

hello friends!

well with the encouragement of several friends, i have now set up a blog to post some thoughts i'd love to share with you all.

i'll probably start with bringing in some of the blogs i wrote on myspace. there were a few i really put some heart into.

so look for some upcoming posts! i will most likely post on Facebook when i write something new.

love you all.